


It Was A Mistake

by lunaticfringe



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticfringe/pseuds/lunaticfringe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth made two mistakes; one a few weeks ago and one a few months ago. Dean isn't going to let him forget either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You're not leaving." Dean blocked the door to the hotel room, fixing Seth with the best glare he could muster up. His best wasn't good enough, unfortunately, and his fellow scumbag just laughed at his efforts. "No, I'm not, you are. Was curbstomping your damn face through cinderblocks not a bold enough move for ya? Do I have to drill it into your brain?" More laughter, that sudden cockiness that made his former partners want to knock his teeth down his throat. Now Dean was no good at calling on stale anger, his glare had failed because he'd been hurt rather than angry. Luckily for him Seth knew just how to push his buttons, made obvious when he bit back; "Maybe laying one on The Viper will send the message home."

"That was one time Ambrose." Seth's expression soured at the memory, a scowl replacing his smirk. "One time is more than enough." Dean called out in a sing-song, proud of himself for turning the tables. "Don't pretend you don't want to do it again~" Even having his head stomped repeatedly into varius hard surfaces hadn't erased the memory of a drunk and needy Seth kissing him. That was as far as it had gone and despite it never happening again Dean loved reminding him about it, using it to his advantage every damn chance he got. Did he want to do it again? No. He wanted to stomp on the back of Ambrose's head again and again until he finally stopped talking. He wanted to make him shut the hell up once and for all. "What do you want Ambrose? Really what?"

"You." Despite it being a whisper the smirk on Dean's face told Seth he was teasing him. Standing up from his chair he walked over, not taking a second to think before driving his fist into the side of the male's face. It was Dean's turn to reply with a condescending laugh, just standing there as blood trickled from his lip. "Go ahead babyboy, bloody me up, you like it rough don't you?" Seth didn't need to be told twice, unloading a barrage of punches and kicks on the damn lunatic in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Laughter. Grunts of pain and laughter. "Shutupshutupshutup." It was frustrating that Dean didn't hit back or move or anything logical, he just stood there and laughed.

Eventually Seth tired himself out, crumpling to the ground when Dean finally responded with a solid clock to the jaw. "What's the matter boo? Can't stand being around me for more than a few moments at a time?" Every visible piece of flesh was darkening or dripping blood and surely he had nastier bruises forming under his shirt but Dean hadn't smiled this wide in a long time. Seth may have turned his back on him, he may have fucked with his mind and moved right along without even realizing it, but the fact of the matter was he was better than Seth. He was called a lunatic, nuts, all that good stuff because he let his anger out daily but look at what it was doing to Seth; who was the true insane one here? "I know I'm dreamy and all, but it almost hurts to see you swoon like that." 

A punch putting him on his ass was not swooning. Seth didn't have a damn clue what Dean Ambrose was on but he didn't want to deal with it anymore. "Just go away. Go. Leave me alone dammit!" Dean clicked his tongue and crouched down, shamelessly staring him in the eye as he answered, some truth finally ringing; "I'm not like you, Seth. I could never abandon someone I care about. I will never just leave you alone." And then he was gone, slipping out into the hallway and disappearing off to Roman's room most likely, as if he hadn't just promised not to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth gave him the bruises, Roman gets to cure em

"Why do you tease him?" Roman sighed heavily, shifting to sit up on the edge of his matress as Dean let himself in. It wasn't surprising to him that the male barged right in, less surprising still that his lip was busted and an ugly bruise was forming on his cheek. Dean shrugged, dropping his bag and plopping down on the ground casually. "He doesn't get to forget me." The Samoan rolled his eyes at the answer and pushed himself to his feet, heading into the bathroom. "You're the one left looking like hell every time, not worth it." At least he didn't think it was, popping open the medicine cabinet and starting to rummage through it.

Ever since Seth's betrayal at least once a week, without fail, Dean would show up with a different injury. After the first two times he'd panicked and demanded to know what happen but it didn't take any longer than that to realize the answer would always be Seth. Dean just couldn't leave it be, he kept demanding the male's attention and getting more than he needed. "Here, head back." He murmured as he made his way back to Dean's side, cleaning off his lip with a dry cloth before some rubbing alcohol, earning a hiss. Dean didn't fight the cleaning or following application of toothpaste on the nastier bruises, even though he hated it. After his face was cleaned up he tugged his shirt over his head, revealing some more darkening skin.

"You brought it up again." It wasn't a question, Roman knew only one thing would drive Seth to hit him so hard so many times. Shaking his head some he just rubbed some ointment on the few small cuts formed by nails or whatever ring Seth may have been wearing, not bothering to coat him in toothpaste. There wasn't enough of it to go around. "He's not allowed to forget me." Dean repeated stubbornly, almost childishly, staring down at his fists. "I should have busted his lip instead. Let's see him lay one on him then." Jealousy? A dark brow arched but Roman didn't comment on the mumbling, just finishing up before ruffling Dean's hair. "He's not going to forget you. How could he forget his own personal punching bag?"

A smirk was offered but it was obvious in Dean's eyes that the comment had hurt him, a lazy hand lifted to swat Roman's away from his head. "Shuddup, go to sleep." And, like the lunatic everyone made him out to be, Dean shifted a bit to prop his head up on his bag and rolled to his side; fully content with sleeping on the floor of Roman's hotel room. Knowing better than to fight him Roman just shut off the light and climbed back into bed.


End file.
